


The Knowledge Argument

by crescentstrife



Series: Sefikura Week 2021 [4]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cake, Chocolate, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Philosophy, Prompt: Free Day, Sefikura Week, Sefikura Week 2021, mentions of human experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentstrife/pseuds/crescentstrife
Summary: Sefikura Week 2021 Day 4 - Free DayCloud buys Sephiroth dessert and Sephiroth, being Sephiroth, has a minor philosophical quandary over it.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: Sefikura Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122833
Comments: 24
Kudos: 101
Collections: Sefikura (Sephiroth/Cloud) Week - Yearly Event





	The Knowledge Argument

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically an Atropos-verse side-story, as it takes place in the same universe. It would be during Chapter 4 of A Shift in the Winds, but you probably don’t need to read it in order to understand what is going on here (but if you want to, I won't stop you!)
> 
> Here’s the relevant background info: Cloud passed the SOLDIER exam and is now a Third Class. Shortly after he joined, Cloud had caught Sephiroth’s attention and Sephiroth has been tutoring him in sword technique (seriously, no pun intended) ever since.
> 
> This is just a snippet of some of their time together.

Cloud was late. He was very, _very_ late. But it was not completely his fault: his mission had run overtime because of some idiotic misstep on the part of one of the Thirds he was working with. When Cloud’s team finally returned to the tower to hand in their reports, it was already eight-fifteen – nearly an hour past the time that Cloud was supposed to meet Sephiroth for another training session.

Which was why the blond now found himself nervously shifting from one foot to the other on the elevator ride to the SOLDIER VR training rooms. The ghosts of his childhood claustrophobia and motion sickness, though mostly silenced due to his new enhancements, threatened to compound Cloud’s anxiety. He kept thinking about whether Sephiroth would still be waiting for him, frustrated at wasting time over an inconsiderate subordinate. He wondered if Sephiroth would be upset or angry or irritated, and if it would lead to the end of these sessions completely.

That thought hurt more than Cloud was willing to admit. Over the course of his first four months in SOLDIER, the time spent with Sephiroth had become by far his favorite part of the day. He could not help but treasure the quiet moments they shared in between their spars, their conversations a welcome respite from the chaos of the Third Class training and mission schedule. It turned out that Sephiroth’s patience with teaching also extended to his listening: no matter what Cloud talked about, whether it was how the SOLDIER food was so much better than the fare they served the infantry, how his mother was excited to finally be able to buy a new stove with the money he sent over, or how Zack had narrowly managed to escape the wrath of two Turks he had played a prank on, Sephiroth would listen. The man always gave his full attention to Cloud, recalling details from his past stories, nodding politely and understandingly at the right intervals. Cloud could name the number of people that actually paid him any mind at all on one hand, and the fact that Sephiroth, the great General, was one of them, never failed to bring a sense of warmth to his heart.

What also made the everyday exchanges even more precious was the fact that they were not completely one-sided. Though Sephiroth was not very talkative, he had begun to share a few details about himself, things that fleshed out the outline of the man that Cloud had been so intrigued by since his own childhood. For instance, Cloud learned that Sephiroth spent much of his life after being promoted to General buried in paperwork instead of fighting on the battlefield. He discovered that Sephiroth did not partake in alcohol, that he would only eat red meat on rare occasions, that he enjoyed reading in his downtime and that he had a photographic memory.

That last fact Cloud was so surprised by that he tried testing Sephiroth’s ability by asking him to recite the first few lines from the popular children’s book, _The Adventures of Spot_. But it turned out that the man had not read it, spent his early years instead reading strategy and materia theory books under the supervision of various tutors and experts. Following that confession, Cloud had so many more questions, but the tight line of the General’s lips made it clear that Sephiroth was no longer comfortable speaking, and the subject was dropped very quickly after that.

That was just one of those things about Sephiroth that Cloud learned to become attuned to: there were certain subjects, namely his past and his childhood, that the man had carefully and irrevocably built walls around. Zack had mentioned (warned, really) that Sephiroth, despite his worldwide fame, was an intensely private individual. That inclination toward privacy unfortunately rendered itself easy fodder to an already obtrusive Shinra rumor mill, and amongst the many stories about the General’s history, it was hard for Cloud to sift fact from fiction. Still, the signs that Sephiroth’s past was far from idyllic or pleasant were clear – after all, the man had just been teenager when first sent to war. If Sephiroth had built those walls to protect himself, then Cloud would not push to break them down for the sake of sating his own curiosity.

Yet, Cloud couldn’t help the part of himself that wanted to be closer to Sephiroth. It was no longer uninformed hero worship that motivated him, but a growing sense of care for the man as a living and breathing person. That sense had evolved enough that Cloud could feel a silent anger and injustice growing in his chest whenever another SOLDIER in the Third Class lounge repeated some rumor about the General, or a wayward Shinra employee spoke about Sephiroth as if he were some artificial, unfeeling object.

Because Sephiroth was far from unfeeling. He was more subtle about emotions than most, but they were there, dancing behind his eyes. Amusement at Cloud’s attempt at jokes, disbelief tinged with affection at Zack’s antics, care over Cloud’s wellbeing and progress in SOLDIER, annoyance at Heidegger or other Shinra executives, sadness over his mysterious past – all things he expressed in his own quiet manner. As he had been studying sword technique under Sephiroth’s tutelage, Cloud had also found that he was examining the man himself just as closely. And somehow, over the course of the four months, Sephiroth had become more than just the inscrutable and enigmatic General, but someone who Cloud was now well on his way to considering a close friend.

And that made Cloud even more guilty over his current situation. When the elevator doors finally pinged open, the blond sprinted through the sliding metal doors and down the hallway to the First Class Training Room. With trembling fingers, he fumbled about in his pocket for his keycard and, finally, swiped his way into the space.

“I’m so sorry, I—” Cloud began, but stopped immediately when he noticed the empty floor. It then occurred to Cloud that Sephiroth had probably returned to his office, because the General certainly had better things to do than sit around and wait for an errant Third Class SOLDIER. He turned around to leave, but then was immediately startled by the sight of Sephiroth himself, leaning against the wall by the door that Cloud had just barreled through.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, his brow quirked slightly. “How are you?”

“Fine, I’m – wait, what?”

“You’ve just returned from a mission in the slums, have you not?”

The casualness of the line of questioning jammed the overworked gears in Cloud’s head. He had been expecting frustration, even anger, but not thoughtfulness. “Yes, I did. It ran late. I’m sorry, I should have planned better. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Sephiroth tilted his head, as if a little confused by Cloud’s flustered and apologetic state. “You did not,” he replied, pulling out his PHS from his coat pocket. “I had checked the mission roster earlier and was going to call you to cancel but realized that I did not have your number. Zack was kind enough to provide it, but you had not responded. I decided to return here after the system logged your mission report, as I did not want you to wait for me.”

“Oh,” Cloud said. It was typical protocol for SOLDIERs to silence their PHS’s on missions unless required to communicate with other squad members, but it happened to be one of those rules that no one paid any mind, except him. He must have forgotten to check it again when he returned to the Tower. Cloud reached into his pocket for the device, watching it flick to life when he flipped it open. There was a text from Zack and, sure enough, two missed calls from an unknown number that had to have been Sephiroth’s.

“I will say as your superior officer that I admire your adherence to company policy,” Sephiroth said, a tiny smile on his face.

Cloud stared up at man now, his own face flushed from a mixture of embarrassment over his blunder and from the fact that Sephiroth had actually cracked a sly joke over the matter. He had seen tiny bits of the man’s sarcastic sense of humor over the course of their conversations, but this was the first time it had outwardly revealed itself. He couldn’t help the upward tug on his lips in return. “I should get bonus points, then,” he teased back, finally feeling the waves of anxiety begin to calm inside him. “Still, I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “You do not need to apologize, Cloud. But you must be tired. We can resume training tomorrow. Please get some rest.” He began to shift toward the door.

Even after all this time, the thought that Sephiroth had an inch of care for his wellbeing still surprised Cloud. But it was _clear_ – from the way the man wanted to wait for him, to the way he insisted Cloud get his proper rest. And although Sephiroth did not seem to blame him for the scheduling mishap, Cloud could not help the small speck of guilt gnawing inside. He had to make up for it, somehow. Not just this for this, but also for the wonder of the last few months of training with the man, an honor that he knew he could never fully repay. But Cloud would be damned if he did not try.

He could feel his heart thumping, in anticipation, in nervousness, in excitement. There was some part of him, the insecure teenager who was told he would never measure up, that kept ringing alarms in his head, singing that this was ridiculous, this was stupid, that he should just take the out the General had given him and leave it be before he embarrassed himself further. But he resolutely pushed those thoughts aside.

“Sephiroth, wait!” the blond called.

The General stopped just before he stepped out into the hallway, turning around to face Cloud now, a look of confusion creasing that aristocratic brow. “Yes, Cloud?” 

Cloud stared up at those green eyes. Steeling himself with a hopeful smile, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

The soft surprise on Sephiroth’s face was worth it.

\---

And that was the story of how Cloud had ended up in General Sephiroth’s office, mouth full of meat-sauced pasta delivered from one of the restaurants down the street. Cloud was a country boy at heart and most of the meals he grew up with tended toward the hearty-side, full of potatoes and beefs and dairies, the kind that hit just the right spot after a long day of chopping firewood or chasing the chickens back into their coop. But watching Sephiroth pick at his food – some vegetarian mix with tomatoes and spinach and asparagus – he could see that the man had grown up with a much different experience. It was as if Sephiroth ate not for pleasure, but out of simple physical necessity.

Yet another detail that curled hooks in Cloud’s heart. Despite the pleasant nature of their dinner conversation (they talked about Cloud’s mission, his response to the latest round of mako injections, about Sephiroth’s recent trip to Junon over the weekend), Cloud felt just a little sad. He could not say it was pity, for that would be cruel and condescending and simply _wrong._ But he felt something and had been feeling it for a while now, since he started to peel through the many hidden layers that Sephiroth presented to the world.

The picture that had started surfacing was this: things that normally brought people joy, like recalling a fond children’s book or eating a delicious meal after a long day, Sephiroth treated as foreign concepts. It seemed all the General knew and understood was contained either in the cogs of Shinra’s bureaucracy or in the training grounds or out on the battlefield. It all lent credence to the popular rumor that Sephiroth had been manufactured by Shinra simply to become the greatest SOLDIER the world ever knew.

And if that happened to be remotely true, then Cloud’s heart would ache just a little more.

His eyes flickered to the one unopened container still left in the paper bag placed at the foot of Sephiroth’s desk. Cloud had ordered the slice of cake on a whim, saw it on the takeout menu that he had pulled up on his own PHS after insisting on paying for dinner. It reminded him of his mother, and how she often tried to have a piece of cake waiting for him after supper on the days he braved the town’s stares to run errands for her at the market. Dessert was not a usual occurrence at the Strife household, as sweets were sometimes hard to come by. But whenever his mother would pull a slice of cake out of the warm oven, a happy tranquility would settle between the two of them. The simple act of sharing the dessert was a fortunate reminder that Cloud had someone out there, in the cold and harsh town he lived in, that cared for and was grateful for him.

He could only hope Sephiroth would feel a fraction of the same way.

Cloud turned back to the man now, who had put down his fork and was now taking a sip of his water. They had settled into somewhat companionable silence to finish their meals. The clock was now itching closer to nine-thirty, which was a little late for Cloud to still be at the Tower, but apparently early for the General, who seemed to always be hounded with work of some kind. But Sephiroth appeared more relaxed tonight than usual, his shoulders less tense, his eyes missing that extra edge. The tiny signs were encouraging.

Sephiroth, being who he was, noticed the slight increase in Cloud’s scrutiny, and after putting down his glass, he turned his full attention to the blond. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, that soft and subtle smile gracing his lips. That little change was the last push that Cloud needed to fuel his courage.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Cloud responded. He reached down for the takeout box, placed it on the table and unfurled the plastic cover, revealing a slice of chocolate cake with a strawberry on top He figured that the tiny bit of fruit would be the compromise – strawberry was healthy, after all. “We still haven’t had dessert.”

Sephiroth’s brows raised a little, which Cloud now understood indicated his amusement and his disbelief (it was also the man’s default expression around Zack). “Dessert?” he asked, looking down at the cake curiously, like a cat that had discovered a questionable new object in its space.

“My mom – she’d always leave me a slice of cake after dinner as a thank you, whenever I finished my chores. And, well, I figured I had yet to properly thank _you_ , not just for your patience today, but for everything else, too.”

Cloud had seen Sephiroth surprised, in his usual understated fashion, but this was different – an amazement, an astonishment, a relief, and a gratefulness. Sephiroth’s mouth had fallen open slightly, his face and eyes now soft and open and vulnerable in manner that Cloud had never seen before and had a feeling few people ever had the privilege of experiencing. And that was what it was – a privilege. Because Cloud was now hard-pressed to find a sight ever so heartwarming as that.

“You did not have too.” Sephiroth began.

“I know. I just felt like it.” Cloud dug around the takeout bag for another fork and handed it to the other man. “You get first bite. I hope you like it.”

Sephiroth took the proffered utensil with careful hesitance. It was as if he was unsure how to proceed. Which, it turned out, might have been the truth, because the man then said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean to voice the thought aloud, “I’ve never truly had dessert before.”

Cloud blinked, felt his mind literally pause. “What?”

They met eyes, and Cloud could see it in the green: those walls that Sephiroth cautiously constructed, and he was coming up dangerously close to one. But there was something else in the look, different from the ones before that always seemed more warning, more halting, more dangerous. Those looks all said, _no, stay away._ This one instead said, _please._ How could he say no to that?

“You can tell me,” Cloud said, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ll listen.”

Sephiroth paused, holding the fork in his hand like a pencil, his thumb almost nervously sliding along the plastic handle. “I have been instructed to stay in top physical condition, which means maintaining an optimal diet.”

Cloud was going to ask _instructed by who_ , but Sephiroth continued, and he wasn’t about to interrupt the man when he was already sharing more pieces of himself than he was likely comfortable with. “I would have the occasional bite of something at a Shinra function. But it would never be like this – sharing with another person. This is…different.”

“How so?”

Sephiroth put the fork down on the table, looked at Cloud carefully, like he did whenever he wanted to instruct Cloud on a new skill and was trying to determine the best method of communicating his thinking. Finally, he asked, “Have you ever heard of the knowledge argument?”

The blond shook his head in response.

“It’s a philosophical thought experiment. The premise is that there is a girl, who has lived in a box of black and white all her life. But she has read about color, understands the science behind how light reflects to create color. As far as she is concerned, knowing all the physical properties means there is no further knowledge to obtain. But one day, something changes – and she sees an apple, not in black and white, but fully red.”

“What happens next?”

“Well, that is the question of the experiment. Does something happen at all? Was Mary correct in believing that even though she’s never seen color, she knew all there was about it? Or did the experience of the red change things for her?”

Cloud was no philosopher, but he did not have to be one to see the parallels. An intelligent being, trapped in a limited box, with the ability and knowledge to understand the facts of the world. And yet, despite all the books and tutors and experts on all manner of subjects, having experienced little else but fighting and war and death, the vast knowledge such a being would have possessed would be always be terribly and tragically incomplete.

Cloud’s eyes flickered to the cake now, the strawberry red a startling contrast to the dark chocolate. There was more than just the pleasant taste of the thing, more than just the sweetness. He thought of his mother, the happiness, the comfort, the feeling of safety and warmth. There was gratitude and love and care and an understanding that one belonged and one was important to someone in this wild and unyielding world.

He took the fork from the table and snatched a piece of the cake in its points.

“Well, here’s your red apple.” Cloud said, turning the handle toward Sephiroth.

Sephiroth gave another tiny smile, taking the fork in his always remarkably gentle hands. He took a bite, slowly, and Cloud scanned his face for the miniscule nuances that he had now made a habit of studying so carefully. There was surprise and there was joy. That was all that Cloud needed to see. But he wanted to hear, too.

“Well? You learn anything new?”

The green eyes that fixed on him now were gentle and grateful.

“I think I am beginning to.”

And that was all Cloud needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 of Sefikura Week done! I'm sad that we're now over halfway there, but happy because I've definitely been enjoying this so far. 
> 
> Let me know if you have any questions or comments!


End file.
